


The Crumbling Difference Between Wrong and Right

by Tortellini



Series: Inktober/Fictober 2k19 [7]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Based on a Tumblr Post, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Childhood Friends, Childhood Memories, Childhood Trauma, Dead Georgie Denbrough, Fictober 2019, Friendship, Gen, Hallucinations, IT Chapter Two Spoilers, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Inktober 2019, Inspired By Tumblr, Inspired by Art, Male Friendship, Near Death, Near Death Experiences, Psychological Trauma, Sad, Sad Ending, Spoilers, Stanley Uris Commits Suicide, Trauma, Wordcount: 100-500
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-21 09:36:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21072761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tortellini/pseuds/Tortellini
Summary: Inktober/Fictober 2019 Day 7: HuskyFandom: It (Stephen King) (Muschietti)Eddie Kaspbrak hesitates. For that, Bill Denbrough could kill him.Oneshot/drabble





	The Crumbling Difference Between Wrong and Right

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [this comic](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/527708) by kriyonce.tumblr.com. 

The room is so hot, making sweat run between tense shoulder blades, but somehow at the same time Eddie Kaspbrak is shaking. He looks terrified, his face as white as the faded bandage plastered to his face; grime covers everything around him and his hands...he can barely cling to the wall that he's so desperately holding onto. Much less hold the knife at his feet. 

But Bill Denbrough isn't thinking of that. He's seeing red. He can't think of anything else. 

His hands are around the neck of Eddie's jacket, lifting him up and off his feet. 

"Georgie's dead--"

_A little boy in a jacket as bright as a rubber duck, a gap-toothed smile, pressing a sloppy kiss to a slightly older boy's freckled cheek; sticky hands, a toy train, a blue bedspread; an empty coffin, too small, too cramped. _

"The-the kid's dead--"

_Another little boy, this one Bill seeing merely days ago. Upturned eyebrows, brown eyes, a hesitant twitch of his head; a small skateboard, untied sneakers, an empty container of popcorn. "Please not him, I'm _here _this time, take me instead--"_

"Stanley's dead--"

_Bill doesn't know what Stan Uris looks like as an adult (looked, past tense, an evil little voice whispers) but he remembers him as a kid: skinny, pinched lips, creased eyebrows, cheekbones. Kippah nestled neatly between curls. Rolling eyes. The man he should've been, the man Bill could've imagined him as: crisp button down shirts, bifocals, creases from when he'd smile. Creamy skin marred by two symmetrical cuts, jarring, bled out. _

"Do you w-want R-R-Richie dead too?!"

Eddie looks like he's about to start crying. Bill's voice is husky with grief--hoarse. In the corner of the room Rich Tozier has had the breath knocked out of him, bile running down his chin, his head in Bev's lap as she's trying to comfort him--

"I-I can't find my glasses--" and no, they're not on his face, but before he can say anything else:

"Do you _want_ R-Richie too?!"

Bill has Eddie against the wall and his hands are balled up. Maybe he'd even have hit him. But then he blinks and nowhere is the man that he's gotten used to seeing in the past forty-eight hours.

No, suddenly Bill sees the kid that his friend used to be. Eddie Kaspbrak doesn't really even look that much different as a twelve-year-old. His eyes are wide and tears roll down his cheeks. All he sees is Georgie...

"Please don't be mad, Bill," Eddie whispers, voice cracks, and it's Bill turn to start shaking. "Please, I-I was just scared..."

He lets him go. He has to. 

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Round Here" by Counting Crows


End file.
